


Euphoria

by lightdanced



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, I Had No Idea What I Was Doing, Public Sex, with hints of nadian and jucio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23732587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightdanced/pseuds/lightdanced
Summary: Nadia can hardly listen to the court bicker and whisper, for Lucio is intolerable.
Relationships: Lucio/Nadia (The Arcana)
Kudos: 31





	Euphoria

The silence is shattered, broken when Lucio’s laughter rolls through the air, and the room grows suffocating, air heavy as words of diplomacy does not reach her ears. Breathless is Nadia, drunk on wine—or perhaps she was drunk on impropriety. Lucio’s fingers dance between her parted thighs, underneath the light, silken fabric of her dress.

There is a fire growing, growing between her legs as toes curl far below. His fingers are slick with her, slipping in and out. He knows just where to touch, when to curl fingers. Her body, he has learned like the map of Vesuvia’s palace. There is a tension in her muscles, to be yet released as she shivers. Her melody of pleasure—she could not sing among these moments. Not yet, not among an audience with the court. She supposes Lucio enjoys it, to lock her will in her lungs, to cut the throat of a songbird. 

It’s one of their games, see?

She wonders if this was his justice, for slipping Julian into her mouth—from underneath heavy sheets, and denying Lucio pleasure. She fucked Julian, and he watched. He so does loathe to watch. It’s an entirely different punishment he hates.

How cruel and unusual. Her head spins, the room is hardly clear among a dizzying moment. Her gaze flick side-ways, to settle upon Lucio’s face—he is unbearably satisfied, in the pleasing curve of his smirk. She wishes she could sink her teeth into his lower lip, as she drinks his moans—and ride him to hell and back, then. 

But not yet.

_Not yet, not here,_ she thinks—as Lucio leans sideways, teeth ghosting against an earlobe. The bastard does not let her past the threshold, to the final moment of clarity. Nadia is so sure she would have met that final swell of pleasure, already, if he could be kind. 

“Nadi, Nadi, Nadi—“ he whispers her name, again and again like a holy prayer, as if saying her name was an absolution and it’s all she can hear. She does not hear the court bicker, she does not hear how they whisper that she must be sick. Frustration bubbles beneath her flesh, settling itself into bones like poison, like regret.

“You are merciless,” she murmurs between gritted teeth and he laughs, mirth spilling free. Her hips buck up against him. 

“Next time, _share_ ,” his tone grows sharp as a knife and it sinks into her chest like his kisses. The air feels thicker than mud, after the heaven weep. Her lungs shudder, hot breath spilling as red eyes close to the world. This is religion, this is _her_ religion. Lucio’s fingers are sweeter than—

She’s breaking, she’s bending—she’s shaking. The power of the waves of pleasure, rolling and crashing over her and—

Her lips wear his name. She murmurs and cries out his name, all at once. Tension releases from muscles as her head tilts back, a sigh to the still air.

He laughs again, fingers slipping from her—lifting to his lips. He stares at her, when her head turns to him with a noose of want around his neck as fingers (slick with her) slip between his lips. He tastes her, tongue flicking out to clear any remnants of her. Her cheeks are flushed with red, as shame dances. 

“I will have your head,” she says, breathlessly. 

“Oh, Nadi. I like using your mouth,” he snorts. 

He knows what she means and he’s smirking, always smirking.

She shoves at him, fingers seeking to entwine with his—and she whispers how they are hardly done yet.


End file.
